


When the Lights Go Out

by rain_sleet_snow



Category: Primeval
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Relationship Issues, Stephen Is Kind Of Insecure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 17:59:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18078281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rain_sleet_snow/pseuds/rain_sleet_snow
Summary: Stephen and Ryan celebrate their anniversary.





	When the Lights Go Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Luka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luka/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Luka! Thanks to Fred for the beta.

The lights went off without warning, leaving the flat lit only by a faint blue glow from the edges of BBC iPlayer. Stephen’s critical commentary on the quality of the nature documentary came to an abrupt halt, but the programme carried on for a few seconds before Ryan paused it. The little grey bar indicating that the programme was streaming had stopped too, about a minute in advance of the current position.

 

“What the fuck?” Stephen said.

  
Ryan shrugged, and set the laptop aside. Stephen hauled himself out of the comfortable spot in the sofa - so thoroughly sat on over so many years that it now sucked in the unwary with the inevitability of a small black hole - and went to the window. He pushed back the curtain and saw that the streetlights had gone off all down the road. One of the students in the house opposite stuck their head and a torch out of the front door, its single, shadowed beam of light picking out the heavy blanket of snow over cars and scrappy front gardens. A cat shot out of the house and was chased by the student, yelling with exasperation: the sound echoed faintly behind the glass.

 

It was still snowing.

 

Stephen dropped the curtain.

 

“I think everyone’s lights are off. Power cut.”

 

“At least the boiler’s not electric,” Ryan said philosophically.

 

“Minus six overnight.” Stephen grimaced, and touched the radiator for reassurance. Still hot. “I think this does for the takeaway plan, if you meant the place on the corner. Their lights are also out.”  


“You’re not wrong,” Ryan said, disappearing into the kitchen.

 

Stephen sat back down on the sofa, settling back into the warm spot. “We could order from somewhere further away…”  
  
There was a certain amount of definitive crashing from the kitchen.

 

“What are you doing in there?”

 

“Cooking,” Ryan yelled.

 

Stephen was so surprised he got up and followed him into the other room. “We don’t have any food in the fr-“

 

“We do,” Ryan said, turning off his torch and lighting several candles instead. “Which you’d know, if you remembered to eat on a reasonable human schedule.”

  
  
“I eat,” Stephen said defensively.

 

“Energy bars.” Ryan snorted, and whisked open the fridge to pull out two steaks and a bag of salad. Before he could get it shut again, Stephen glimpsed a bottle of prosecco and some kind of dessert, maybe tiramisu or chocolate mousse. The oven was already on and humming up to temperature; a box of oven chips sat on the side.

 

“Are you – I thought we weren’t doing anything special,” Stephen said, caught off-guard and feeling a flush rise up the back of his neck.

 

“No,” Ryan said, very patiently, dumping the salad in the sink to rinse and the steak on the counter to reach room temperature. “You went and pretended the anniversary didn’t matter to you because you still think if you take this seriously, I’ll run screaming, and then you marked the date on the calendar, and bought me a new GPS which you very carefully gave to me _yesterday_ , and had Miss Wickes change the rosters so I’d be off today.”

 

Stephen froze.

 

“You’re not subtle, Stephen.” Ryan dried his hands and rested them carefully on Stephen’s waist.

 

“No,” Stephen admitted. He leaned his forehead against Ryan’s shoulder. “S-“

 

“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry.” Ryan kissed his temple, and wrapped his arms around Stephen’s waist. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

  
  
Stephen relaxed, and slid closer in against Ryan, until he could feel Ryan’s heart thudding solidly in his chest.

 

“I love you,” Ryan said. “Happy anniversary. You moron.”

 

Stephen laughed, and murmured his reply into the skin of Ryan’s neck.

  
After a moment, he said “What were you going to do if the power cut hadn’t happened?”  
  
“Wish you a happy anniversary and get on with cooking.”

 

 

The power cut lasted for hours, so that they had to eat by candle-light. Next door came by to borrow some batteries and complain; the students finally coaxed their cat out from under a car. The moon rose high in the sky, clouds rolled in, and Stephen and Ryan went to bed in an extremely romantic atmosphere.

 

The lights came back on at one in the morning, in the middle of a heated moment, and Stephen fell out of bed in surprise and twisted his knee.

 

Minor Injuries thought it was the funniest thing they’d ever heard.  


End file.
